


Arschersetzer

by CyberNasty



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Pronouns, F/F, Fingerfucking, Fluff, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 02:27:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8826811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberNasty/pseuds/CyberNasty
Summary: Whirl liked it hard and rough and she would not have it any other way. In her mind, people who were afraid of giving it their all because they might hurt her weren’t suitable partners. If she was walking funny the next day because her hip had been dislocated, it was perfect.And this was why, in Whirl’s mind, Cyclonus was perfect.





	

**Author's Note:**

> wow this is the first time i've actually released my smut into the wild. the setting i imagine this taking place in is whirl's habsuite like it was shown in #47
> 
> this is just 100% fluffy smut :')
> 
> also before anyone asks: the title isn't anything deep its literally just "ass replacer" in german after this one joke song
> 
> UHH alternate pronouns, cyclonus and whirl are both she/her in this fic

Maybe it was a good thing Whirl’s habsuite was in a more secluded section of the Lost Light. Nobody would be in the immediate line of fire if Whirl decided to have an episode, she didn’t have to feel paranoid that her neighbor might be spying on her, she was free to act out her weird quirks without interruption, and, most importantly, nobody would hear her having incredibly loud sex.

Whirl liked it hard and rough and she would not have it any other way. In her mind, people who were afraid of giving it their all because they might hurt her weren’t suitable partners. If she was walking funny the next day because her hip had been dislocated, it was perfect. (Though Ratchet did get tired of interfacing related injuries.) 

And this was why, in Whirl’s mind, Cyclonus was perfect. Strong, angry, and willing to do whatever Whirl wanted her to. Even if that did include Whirl screeching “SMASH ME YOU STRONG MOTHERFUCKER” during a particularly hard pounding, and the couple of times it had sent Ultra Magnus interrupting because he thought Whirl was picking a fight. 

But tonight, she was more quiet. Her energy being put out in wheezing whines; because tonight Cyclonus got to do what she wanted. And what she wanted was Whirl shoved on the floor, legs pulled wide, a pretty black and blue studded collar on her neck, leash tied to a chair behind her, and a vibrator stuffed in her valve.

The setup wasn’t complicated, but god did Cyclonus love to tease. Instead of sitting next to her, dirty talk, kissing her, any attention really, she instead sat cross legged on the floor a little bit aways in front of her. She folded her hands under her chin, watching Whirl expressionlessly, admiring her really. The little heart-shaped tag on Whirl’s collar bounced whenever she moved, which Cyclonus focused on for a minute before moving her eyes downward to the real star of the show. The toy she had picked out wasn’t as flashy as her collar, but it was thick, and stretched Whirl nicely. Cyclonus thought she could just sit there forever and be happy, but she knew how easily Whirl got bored, so she probably had to intervene soon enough.

Whirl let out a confused snort when Cyclonus switched her position from watching her writhe on the floor to sitting behind her and propping her up against her chest. She untied the leash from the chair, wrapping it multiple times around her hand to keep the tightness. She hummed a little, cupping Whirl’s helm in both her hands. 

“You’re a pretty girl, you know that?” Cyclonus chirred, stroking her fingers along the sides of her head. 

Whirl only gave another snort in response, which turned into a high whine when one hand left her head to pet her inner thigh. 

“What’re you doing,” Whirl finally snarled out, swinging her head up to look Cyclonus in the eyes.

“Just relax.” Cyclonus responded, pushing her head back down so she was staring at her own array.

Whirl gave a sharp ex vent of annoyance, but didn’t argue any further. Whatever, as long as she got off she guessed she didn’t care. Speaking of which, the thigh petting was boring. 

Unable to use her claws as they were too big to get a good position between her legs, she wiggled her hips to try and get the hand to go down lower. Or some sort of friction, any sort of friction. Asking Cyclonus to actually do something was pretty counterproductive, past experience had proven. 

Cyclonus continued petting her leg, pretending not to notice, and Whirl gave out a not-sexy-more-obnoxious whine. Cyclonus pressed her mouth against the nape of Whirl’s neck, kissing there and humming, while the latter of the two grew increasingly frustrated. She wasn’t even trying to look, was she?

So she wiggled more, placing her pedes firmly on the ground and arching her back enough so her hips left the ground. Maybe she could bounce it or something. Finally Cyclonus took notice; cupping her hand over her valve to push her hips back down.

“Flexible thing, aren’t you? Are all helicopters like this?” she purred.

“I don’t know, I’ll bring it up at the next all-copter orgy. Bring it up casually or sometH-” Whirl was cut off with a high yelp when the toy was yanked quickly out of her valve, and she whined again at the frustration of having absolutely NOTHING now.

“That  _ hurt,  _ jackass.” Whirl snapped.

Cyclonus dropped the toy to the ground, now coated in hot pink fluids. But offering no apology. “Be quiet, I have something better.” There was a soft click, the sound of her claws being retracted, and the toy was replaced with her fingers. 

Whirl keened, her head falling back to hit Cyclonus’s chest while one leg stomped lightly on the ground, but not enough to throw Cyclonus’s arm away. Whirl was strange in every way; you could tell how much she was enjoying something when her leg started kicking and she purred like a motorcycle in standby. Cyclonus made sure to keep her thumb pressed hard against Whirl’s anterior node as she worked, which wasn’t making the involuntary kicking any lighter. 

Whirl started to slump downward, optic half-lidded, completely blissed out. Cyclonus gave a soft snort of laughter, releasing her tension on the leash momentarily to hoist Whirl back up. Maneuvering the rotary’s claws over her shoulders so Whirl could get a better grip on her companion.

“You’re cute,” Cyclonus said, planting kisses on her now in reach winglets.

“Yeah, yeah, m’ great.” Whirl mumbled back. “Jus’...jus’ keep doin’ what yer doin’.”

Cyclonus could feel Whirl’s fans blasting hot air against her own chassis. Her plating was burning to the point Cyclonus briefly considered asking if she wanted to take a breather. But also past experience told her that would likely just end in a cranky copter and various colorful threats (“I’m going to snap your fucking dick off” came to mind.) She decided against it; she knew it wouldn’t reach critical levels anyway. 

Cyclonus, did, however, also know Whirl would get bored of being fingered eventually, she couldn’t stick to one thing and run with it. So she had to cut this short or they’d never get to the next round. She fished around inside Whirl’s valve for a moment, not any the more easy as that only made Whirl kick faster, and eventually found a bigger cluster of nodes, and without warning extended her claws to scratch them.

Whirl overloaded with a loud squawk, hot pink transfluid gushing over Cyclonus’s fingers and on the floor in front of her as she pulled them out. Cyclonus examined her sticky fingers for a moment, frowning when she realised she’d have to be digging that out of the thin claw seams.

“Messy.” she mumbled, more to herself than to her partner. 

For now, Whirl was basking in afterglow, and Cyclonus decided it was a mess for another time. She made a quick effort to clean her hand against the floor before rubbing it against the thin plating of Whirl’s stomach; waiting for her to form a coherent string of words. Whirl turned her head to nuzzle her prongs against the inside of Cyclonus’s arm, the only form of kiss she could manage.

“Alrigh’, what’s for round two?”

“Move over.”

“You’re not gonna ride me, are ya’? Told you ‘m not a spike mech.”

“I said move over.” 

Whirl would’ve rolled her eyes if she could, but obeyed, shuffling off the other to lay flat on the ground again. Her fans appreciated the brief lax on the leash to allow her ventilations to gulp in some cool air. She flopped her head to the side to watch what Cyclonus was doing, there was no use trying to see over her own chassis.

Cyclonus was sitting neatly in front of her, legs tucked under herself as she enjoyed the view. Whirl had a very pretty array, navy blue metal with golden biolights running through it. The tip of her spike adorned with a gold keyhole marking, and her anterior node glowing gold to match. Her spike was sizeable, long and moderately thick, would probably feel fantastic if she actually let anyone put it in them. But she didn’t, she explicitly stated that. You could touch and lick all you want but the minute you put it in a valve she’d throw a fit. Never gave a reason why, though, but Cyclonus didn’t press.

“Like what you see?” Whirl purred, pulling her legs open a little wider as if it’d help Cyclonus see better.

Cyclonus inched herself forward, releasing her own spike; not as impressive, not as flashy. Deep purple with red biolights, but covered in plenty of ridges. She sat neatly in front of Whirl, hiking her long skinny legs up over her shoulders before completely seating herself inside of Whirl. 

Whirl’s vents hitched as she slid it in, then released a long sigh at the end of it. 

“You’re pretty.” Cyclonus said, biting down on the leash to keep her hands free; one went to grab Whirl’s leg to keep her from kicking, and the other went to rub along her spike.

“Usually,” Whirl began between breaths, “when I see something pretty my first instinct is to-god can’t you go any faster?-, sorry, to break it. Advice from me to you.”

Cyclonus rolled her eyes, fine, Whirl wanted fast? She could do that. Her gentle petting of Whirl’s spike went to her digging her claws into the appendage, slamming into Whirl hard enough to leave paint transfers. Whirl moaned, and Cyclonus got kicked in the head from her involuntary reaction. She tightened her grip on that to keep it still; it really was a wonder how hard of a kick Whirl packed with such spindly limbs.

Whirl did her best to stay relaxed on the floor as Cyclonus did the work for her. This was good, this was what she had been waiting for all night. She didn’t want to ruin it, as she had been starting to fear Cyclonus wanted to keep dragging it out; she was like that.

Speaking of which, Cyclonus was getting really into it now. Her teeth were clamped down on the leash so hard she could’ve gnawed it in half, and she had abandoned Whirl’s spike to instead use both her hands to grab Whirl’s sides. Whirl could’ve dropped dead right there and she probably wouldn’t have even noticed a difference between here and heaven. 

Cyclonus snarled, releasing her claws to dig them into thin seams on Whirl’s stomach; and that was enough to put her over the edge. Whirl’s vision turned to static as she heard Cyclonus make a sharp noise; which she registered as Cyclonus’s own climax. But then the claws disappeared abruptly, and Whirl had second thoughts.

Whirl swung her head around in annoyance. “Hey what g- oh my god?” 

Cyclonus was holding her face, spike still lodged in Whirl’s valve, hissing, “You kicked me in the nose.”

Whirl’s anger quickly turned to amusement, busting up in a laughing fit at the predicament. She figured she must’ve pulled her legs back too far or something. Whirl pushed herself up and off of Cyclonus’s spike, sitting so their chests were touching and Whirl could drape her claws around Cyclonus’s neck. 

“Aww, you want Whirlybird to kiss it better?” she teased, cooing into Cyclonus’s neck.

“Maybe we should start tying up your legs,” was all that Cyclonus responded with.

Whirl purred more, “Sounds hot, you wanna nut on my face? Yanno, as payback.”

Cyclonus let out a deep sigh, taking advantage of the position to drag Whirl into laying down with her. “And they say romance is dead.” 

“I thought I was a pretty girl,” Whirl continued, optic curved into a grin, stifling giggles, “Hey, by the by, you want me to take of the collar if we’re gonna be sleeping like this?”

Cyclonus hummed in thought, thumbing the little heart-tag. “No, leave it. It’s cute.”

“Oh cool, cause I was thinking of leaving it on for a while. Was gonna get “if lost return to Cyclonus” engraved on the tag. Or maybe something less subtle, like “fucking destroy my pussy Cyclonus”.”

Cyclonus huffed, kissing the top of her head. “You’re a jerk.”

“And you’re gay. What else is new?” 

“Goodnight, Whirl.” Cyclonus said, purposely dismissively, offlining her optics in hopes that Whirl would follow suit.

Whirl chirred, tucking her helm under Cyclonus’s chin. “Love you too, jackass.” 


End file.
